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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"The Rules of the Game"

It ended for each as he or she finished eating. The two women
were left at the last quite alone. Bob followed his host to the veranda.
There he silently offered the old man a cigar; the younger men had
vanished.
Samuels took the cigar with a grunt of thanks, smelled it carefully, bit
an inch off the end, and lit it with a slow-burning sulphur match. Bob
also lit up.
For one hour and a half--two cigars apiece--the two sat side by side
without uttering a syllable. The velvet dark drew close. The heavens
sparkled as though frosted with light. Bob, sitting tight on what he
knew was the one and only plan to accomplish his purpose, began to
despair of his chance. Of his companion he could make out dimly only the
white of his hair and beard, the glowing fire of his cigar. Inside the
house the noises made by the inhabitants thereof increased and died
away; evidently the household was seeking its slumber. A tree-toad
chirped, loudest in all the world of stillness.
Suddenly, without warning, the old man scraped back his chair. Bob's
heart leaped. Was his one chance escaping him? Then to his relief
Samuels spoke.


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